“George, when you’re all right again we’ll add something to present congratulations,” said Gale.

“We shore will,” put in Ladd.

So with parting jests and smiles they left the couple to themselves.

Belding enjoyed a laugh at his good wife’s expense, for Thorne could not be kept in bed, and all in a day, it seemed, he grew so well and so hungry that his friends were delighted, and Mercedes was radiant.  In a few days his weakness disappeared and he was going the round of the fields and looking over the ground marked out in Gale’s plan of water development.  Thorne was highly enthusiastic, and at once staked out his claim for one hundred and sixty acres of land adjoining that of Belding and the rangers.  These five tracts took in all the ground necessary for their operations, but in case of the success of the irrigation project the idea was to increase their squatter holdings by purchase of more land down the valley.  A hundred families had lately moved to Forlorn River; more were coming all the time; and Belding vowed he could see a vision of the whole Altar Valley green with farms.

Meanwhile everybody in Belding’s household, except the quiet Ladd and the watchful Yaqui, in the absence of disturbance of any kind along the border, grew freer and more unrestrained, as if anxiety was slowly fading in the peace of the present.  Jim Lash made a trip to the Sonoyta Oasis, and Ladd patrolled fifty miles of the line eastward without incident or sight of raiders.  Evidently all the border hawks were in at the picking of Casita.

The February nights were cold, with a dry, icy, penetrating coldness that made a warm fire most comfortable.  Belding’s household usually congregated in the sitting-room, where burning mesquite logs crackled in the open fireplace.  Belding’s one passion besides horses was the game of checkers, and he was always wanting to play.  On this night he sat playing with Ladd, who never won a game and never could give up trying.  Mrs. Belding worked with her needle, stopping from time to time to gaze with thoughtful eyes into the fire.  Jim Lash smoked his pipe by the hearth and played with the cat on his knee.  Thorne and Mercedes were at the table with pencil and paper; and he was trying his best to keep his attention from his wife’s beautiful, animated face long enough to read and write a little Spanish.  Gale and Nell sat in a corner watching the bright fire.

There came a low knock on the door.  It may have been an ordinary knock, for it did not disturb the women; but to Belding and his rangers it had a subtle meaning.

“Who’s that?” asked Belding, as he slowly pushed back his chair and looked at Ladd.

“Yaqui,” replied the ranger.

“Come in,” called Belding.

The door opened, and the short, square, powerfully built Indian entered.  He had a magnificent head, strangely staring, somber black eyes, and very darkly bronzed face.  He carried a rifle and strode with impressive dignity.